


Daisies In Your Hair

by piperthejouralist



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I should actually write something else... but y'all know some things are just more important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6913897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piperthejouralist/pseuds/piperthejouralist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Velen is a bloody, muddy mess. Downers are taking over the land and yet Cora has decided she is much safer there than in Novigrad. </p><p>That is, until a young woman miraculously appears at her doorstep. </p><p>After that day, everything's gonna change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daisies In Your Hair

It was a nice evening. Well, for the muddy hell that Velen was, at least. The sun was still out, shining upon the small hut's garden with reddish beams of light, covering the green leafs of the plants she had cared for due to her position as a healer within the village. At the time, her abilities to extinguish the pimples on the average farmer's butt were the only thing keeping them from expelling her. 

Cora sighed, sending a glance towards the copper kettle that her water was boiling in, waiting for her to pour it out into the cup she had placed on the table covered in books and papers.

With a small movement of her fingers the flame was put out. The sorceress pushed herself off her bed, pieces of clothing falling off the crooked surface and landing on the wooden floor. She carefully opened the lace within her hair that she had held up in a tight bun, feeling how the strands fell down her back like liquid, brushing against her shoulders and collarbone. She was wearing her white undershirt only for it was almost dawn, so the missing warmth of her covers left her with chills running down her back as she stretched. If the villagers encountered her like that, they would most likely, depending on their gender and age, of course, either drive her out- or do things far worse to her. They did not respect her, they tolerated her. As long as she helped them, they brought her food and goods, but that was about it. 

She had heard that another mage had chosen the same fate- Keira Metz was spending her days in another region of Velen, yet she was almost only a day away. Cora had thought about visiting the other sorceress some day, but had come to the conclusion that traveling was way too dangerous at the moment- with drowners and other abominations dominating the streets rather than real travelers or merchants. Not that many merchants found their way to Velen anyways. The population was too poor to make the journey affordable for all parties, with both nobles and the people who could buy the goods gone as soon as the war reached the land.

The young sorceress took her time filling the mug with herbs and flowers before carefully letting the water flow into the container, not a single drop landing on the parchment of her studies. She was almost proud of this, smiling to herself, as she took the first sip after waiting a few minutes throughout which she had scavenged the hut for something edible, finally finding some bread- and honey she had harvested during one of her walks. The warmth of the tea still satisfyingly filling her stomach, she sat back down, before starting to train what she had wanted to do in days- no, weeks: a spell she had worked on and finally wanted to complete. 

*

She was several hours into preparation, sweat dripping from her forehead and chin, several hours in which she had said the words all over again when realizing that she might have made a mistake. Cora threw the book against the wall, falling back onto her bed, her back hitting the pillows as she enchanted the ceiling to show her the night sky. She loved the soothing light that now cascaded through the room, making the edges seem softer, the mirror in the corner showing nothing but warm brightness. Her eyes almost closed, breath slowing- there was a knock on the door, quiet, but consistent, rhythmic, almost. Cora's head shot up, her eyes pinned onto the wooden door of the hut as she she made her way towards the small opening that led outwards, to the small fields of daisies and hyacinths; yarrow growing next to ribwort. She placed her hand on the handle, turning it around carefully, a small flame resting upon her palm, ready to rise up and become a burning inferno if it was her will; for the forces of natures were bound to a sorceress' will. Cora knew not to absorb the fire's energy- it was corrupting at best and lethal at worst- but manipulating the element capable of causing both pain and destruction, but also creating great things, was worth the risk. It was efficient and, if trained, most useful. With a small creak, the door sprung open and revealed the form of a young woman laying amidst her beloved flowers. She was wounded, blood dripping out of severe cuts on her limbs. Unconscious, thus incapable of having knocked on the door, as Cora noticed, though her breathing was steady. She looked almost peaceful, not regarding the fact that splatters of blood covered her young, beautiful face. Despite the certain amount of attraction she feld towards her, Cora witnessed anger boiling at the pit of her stomach. She had destroyed the exotic orchids she had brought with her from Aretusa. The ones that were bloody expensive and hard to take care of. Nonetheless, she decided to take her inside. The woman was of no use for her if she was eaten by a Ghoul- or some other abomination, although the sword the young woman carried on her back seemed to have been frequently used. Groaning, she lifted her up, not willing to waste a spell for what she could easily do with her physical power. * Inside, after having placed the petite frame of the women on her bed, she decided to take a closer look at the wounds she had seen outside already. After a few minutes of rummaging through the small containers she had placed within a chest across the room, she finally found what she had looked for: a tincture of pure magic that helped wounds to heal faster. Returning to the stranger she opened it, letting a few drops fall onto the soon-to-be-scars. That was about what she was able to do. 


End file.
